


The Earthborn Dragonborn

by LadyNiaLavellan, Rythana



Series: Sloane Bailey~The Earthborn Dragonborn [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Awkward Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Collaboration, Discord collab, Earthborn, F/M, I am bad at tags, Lots of Original Characters - Freeform, Modern Girl in Skyrim, Modern Girl in Tamriel, Orsimer - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, TESV: Skyrim, first skyrim fic, fkn dragons, fkn trolls ftw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-12-18 10:04:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18247610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNiaLavellan/pseuds/LadyNiaLavellan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rythana/pseuds/Rythana
Summary: What would happen if a Dragonborn hadn't been born in Tamriel and instead was born on Earth? Sloane Justine Bailey was your average 17 year old. She shared half of her life on Facebook, the other half was spent getting straight A’s, filling out college applications and playing video games. On this particular night, it was Skyrim, a game her ex-boyfriend had gotten her addicted to. Ever have such a vivid dream, you swore it was real? For Sloane, she can't seem to wake up after dreaming of snow-covered woods, hands filled with the potential for magic, gorgeous landscapes, and dragon shouts.





	1. Clash of Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE THANK YOU TO MY AWESOME TEAM OF BETAS AND EDITORS! This probably would have sat forever in my docs without all your wonderful ideas! Rythana, Black_Dog (Xilianr), Knoare, sutsop, LitBritty ily all!

“Sloane, don't you have homework?” Her mom asked as she peeked into her daughter's bedroom. Sloane was fighting what seemed to be a corpse, making her mother grimace.

 

“Come on, Mom. You know I finished it when I got home,” Sloane said, nodding to the pile of completed worksheets on top of her school books.

 

Sighing, her mother replied. “Why can’t your brother do that?” A bitterly bemused shake of her head followed. “Alright, see you in the morning, remember we’re going to your Gram’s for dinner tomorrow.” Sloane’s mother kissed the top of her head, smoothing down her wild, fiery curls and exited the room as fast as she’d entered, leaving Sloane to her video game.

 

With a mischievous smile on her face, the teenager went back to smiting draugr in the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow. As the hours passed by late into the night, she began to wonder about the silliest things. Just what would life in Skyrim be like, really? While the characters of the game had oft described it as ‘harsh and short,’ she’d never truly observed this. Colorful landscapes, vibrant hideaways and uncannily bright caves were abundant in the magical land. It was seldom that anyone you’d run into was anything less than helpful, barring bandits, monsters, and the occasional necromancer, of course. In truth, Skyrim seemed an almost idyllic place—so long as one veered away from the cavernous, treacherous underdark—so long as you kept to the roads.

 

“Yeah,” she smiled, “I think living there would be pretty amazing…” As she closed out the dialogue tree for her quest, she felt her eyes grow very heavy and she let out a yawn as she settled into the oversized bean bag chair, laptop sitting on her bare knees, keeping them warm.

 

*****

 

 _Cold… too cold… freezing._ These words went through Sloane’s head as a bright light made her squint. She felt soaked to the bone and completely frigid.

 

Opening her eyes, she realized she was laying on her back in heavy snow and looking up through a canopy of bare trees. Heavy footfalls made her blink as she sat up to look around. Peering through squinted eyes at her surroundings, Sloane finally realized it didn't really snow in March where she lived.

 

“What the… snow in spring… in Maine!?” she squealed.

 

When she got into her car to leave school, it was almost eighty degrees outside.

 

Just then, five or six men and women in strange armor rushed by her from all directions. Sloane covered her head defensively before watching them run past her. She didn’t know how to describe the odd clothing, but it seemed familiar; the colors and the fur sticking out from the boots as they whizzed past her in padded, checkered brown cloth draped in a thick, blue wrapping. Bits of chainmail peeked from beneath the ocean-colored cloth.

 

Sloane decided it best not to stay in this spot. She stood, shivering and clutching her arms to her thin frame. Slowly, she moved one bare, stiff leg after the other in the direction the strangely-dressed people had run. Her teeth chattered, and she had no clue as to where she was headed, or in which direction. Sloane knew that usually if people were running one way, there was usually danger of some sort in the other direction, no matter how odd their apparel. _She_ was the one wearing short shorts and a tank top, laying in the snow.

 

She followed the footprints left by the hurried men and women, hoping it led to some semblance of civilization.

 

Sloane didn’t expect a bear to wander out of the trees to her left. She froze, her breath coming out in hastened puffs. She did the only thing she thought plausible and bolted right, breaking out of the treeline and onto what looked like a road made up of haphazardly placed stones. She heard the bear’s heavy footfalls and then its thunderous roar. Suddenly, a large, green man swung a battle axe into the beasts skull from behind, effectively giving Sloane a panic attack as the large animal slumped dead at her heels, an intricately detailed battle axe sticking out of its massive head.

 

Yanking the axe out of the bear’s skull, the large green man looked at Sloane, then at her attire, cocking an eyebrow.

 

“T-thank y-you. S-sorry, c-cold.” She tried to get a complete sentence out, but it wasn’t going to happen while she couldn’t feel her toes… or her face.

 

The massive man grunted and pulled a heavy, fur-lined brown cloak from a pack on his back and wrapped it around her shoulders. He started walking away, and when she did not follow, he turned his head and motioned for her to do so.

 

She quickly followed the man towards what seemed to be a small village, and that was when she saw the sign with pieces of oddly shaped wood pointing in different directions, familiar place names burnt into the now rotting, molding pine boards: _Windhelm, Whiterun, Riverwood, Ivarstead, Riften, Winterhold._ They were headed in the direction the Winterhold board pointed.

 

“Sh-shit!” Sloane attempted to curse as she tried to quell her shivering through clenched teeth and gawked at the wooden sign. “H-how am I here?” She asked herself, loud enough for the burly green dude to comment.

 

“What do you mean, human?” He asked, stopping and turning to cock a bushy brown eyebrow at her in confusion.

 

“T-Tam-TAMRIEL! Dammit.” Sloane yelled through her quivering jaw. Her tiny frame shook with fear, rage and more worry than she could comprehend.

 

“You mean you’re not from Tamriel? That is not possible, human, because that is where you are.” He said matter-of-factly with a slight nod.

 

“Stop calling me ‘ _human’_ , I have a name, ya know. It’s Sloane,” she said, finally warming up a bit as she began following what she now recognized as an Orc, though obviously he was still young.

 

“Yash gro-Torr,” the orc said curtly as he stopped in front of one of the first buildings they came upon.

 

Sloane couldn’t read the sign that was covered in a thick layer of ice and snow, but she assumed it was Winterhold’s inn, The Frozen Hearth.

 

“Come,” Yash said as he climbed the stairs with thudding steps, knocking the built up snow off of his leather boots. She did as she was bid, mainly because frostbite would not be a welcome thing in Skyrim.

 

 _No doctors, Sloane. Be careful,_ she thought to herself as she stepped into the warm inn, eliciting looks from the patrons. She sat in a wooden chair and pulled off her wet ankle socks, dropping them next to her on the wooden floor. She pulled her long, red tresses up into a ponytail with one of the elastic hair bands she kept on her wrist and covered her near-frozen body with her borrowed cloak.

 

Her new ’friend’ had wandered up to the counter at the end of the large common room and was speaking to a man who Sloane assumed was the innkeeper. When he returned to her side, he pulled a wooden chair over next to where she sat, close to the fire.

 

“Sloane. That is not a name I am familiar with. Is it Nordic? Cyrodiilic?” he asked, as quietly as his brutish, rugged voice would allow.

 

“Gaelic. I was born in Ireland, my… father was there as a soldier, my mother was born and raised in Dublin.” Sloane tried to explain, but only got a puzzled and rather startled look from her new comrade.

 

“I have never heard of this Ireland, or Gaelic?” Yash said as the food he had ordered for them was set on a small table just behind the two. A nordic woman who had been sweeping just minutes before set a folded stack of clothing next to Sloane’s feet. She smiled appreciatively at the woman before thanking her and moving the cloak to free her hands.

 

The smell of the food was mouthwatering as she gripped the wooden bowl with both hands and held it to her chest for warmth as it cooled. The nord woman came over to her and let her know there was a bath awaiting her in her room.

 

The door to the inn opened several times in the next hour as Sloane ate, the draft chilling her deeply as she tried to warm herself. People from the village had begun to file into the small space around the large fire pit in the middle of the room and a bard had begun to sing Ragnar the Red.

 

Sloane could feel the ache from how the cold bit into her bare skin earlier and decided it was time for that bath. She set her empty bowl of whatever she had just eaten back down on the small table and asked the innkeeper which room was hers.

 

“Excuse me, sir. Do you know which room my friend rented for me?” Sloane asked as stoically as she could in her bare feet and too-short shorts

 

“Tha’ one down the ‘all, third ta yer left.” Dagur said in a very thick accent, but thankfully he also pointed at the correct door that was down a narrow hallway. She remembered the inn in Winterhold very differently in _Skyrim_ , but she supposed that it _had_ just been a video game.

 

With a heavy sigh, Sloane slowly lowered herself into the wooden tub and steaming water therein.

 

 _How did I end up here? This shit is crazy! Maybe this is all just a dream? A vivid fucking dream because I fell asleep at my computer again?_ Sloane thought about it for a few moments and then pinched the thin skin of her wrist. “OW!” She cried, her yelp echoing in the sparsely furnished room. Just then the door burst open, a large silhouette stood in the doorway, huffing. Yash had his axe in hand as he looked around the room, his eyes falling on Sloane as she covered herself. Yash quickly averted his eyes.

 

“I am sorry… uh… Sloane. Is everything alright? I heard you cry out.” Yash asked, looking anywhere but at the wooden tub in the dimly lit space. He shifted his weight back and forth for a moment, embarrassed that he had burst in on Sloane while she was bathing.

 

“I am fine, Yash. Thank you for checking on me.” Sloane said as Yash quickly closed the door to their shared room. Yash avoided looking at her as he crossed the room to one of the hard-looking beds and began unlacing his boots.  

 

Sloane realized Yash had no intention of leaving the room as she watched him pull off his boots and place his axe to lean at the foot of his borrowed bed. She was mortified. Sloane slowly lowered herself further into the water until she had to bend her knees to submerge her head. When she came up for air, she quickly washed with the bar of flowery smelling soap that had been laid next to the tub. She scrubbed her hair with the bar as well; no tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner in Skyrim, after all. When she was finished, she noticed Yash was laying down now, facing the wall his bed was pushed up against. She rose, accidentally splashing water onto the wooden floor, and quickly dried with what passed for a towel.

 

Sloane quickly dressed in the soft pants and loose cotton shirt she had been given before grabbing the long, brown cloak Yash had handed her earlier and laying on the bed opposite him. She used the warm cloak as a makeshift blanket over the thin one provided. It wasn’t long before Yash’s soft snores lulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sloane is now stuck in a world she knows only from a video game. Yash seems quite content with this small human woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been sitting in my docs for Azura knows how long... Here is chapter two!

Emily Bailey had spent the better part of her day catching up on work she had to finish before Monday. Her laptop sat on the dining room table as she typed up report after report. She had seen neither hide nor tail of her twins since last night, which wasn’t unusual for a Saturday. After looking at the time on her laptop, she decided it was time to tell her children to at least get out of bed.

 

First stop: Sam’s room. Emily knocked on her son’s door. “Samuel Justin Bailey, time to get up,” she called out through the cracked door. “You don’t want to deal with your Gram if we’re late.” Hearing Sam’s grumbled protests from the pile of blankets on his bed, she moved on to her next stop: Sloane.

 

“Sloane, time to get up.” Emily pushed the door open, then furrowed her brows. Sloane  wasn’t in her room. Her bed was still made, and her laptop lay next to her phone on the floor at the end of her bed. She checked Sloane’s bathroom: the lights were off, and no sound came from within. 

 

With a look of concern crossing her face, she stood on the landing in front of Sloane’s bedroom door. Emily called out, “Sam, have you seen your sister?” She glanced down the stairs into the kitchen, spotting Sam.

 

Sam looked up from pouring himself a glass of orange juice, his short, red hair a mop of tangles. “No, Mom. I haven’t seen her since dinner last night, why?”

 

“She isn’t in her room or in her bathroom. Can you check to see if her car is still in the garage?” Emily whirled around and back into Sloane’s bedroom, anxiously scooping up her daughter’s phone.

 

Sam shrugged and set his half-filled glass and the carton of orange juice on the island counter, walking towards the garage door on the other side of the kitchen. He looked at the key hooks; the key to Sloane's car was still hanging on her labeled hook. Her Deadpool lanyard hung there like it always did when she was home, Gryffindor house key still dangling next to her keyless fob. Sam pulled open the garage door and stepped out into the garage. Sloane’s midnight blue Malibu sat there, untouched; the hood felt cold under his hand. 

 

“Her car is still here, Mom,” Sam called out as he switched off the light in the garage and closed the door.

 

Emily switched on Sloane’s phone as she descended the stairs, calling Sloane’s best friend Anna. The phone rang three times before Anna answered,  _ “Hey Sloane!” _

 

“Hello Anna, it’s Mrs. Bailey. Have you heard from Sloane today?”

 

_ “No, Mrs. B. I haven’t talked to her since she dropped me and Elijah off at home after school yesterday. She isn’t at home?”  _ There was a hint of distress in Anna’s tone.

 

“No, and her car is still here. Do you know if anyone could have picked her up?” Emily asked as she looked at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall: 1:27 pm.

 

_ “Without her phone? We  _ all _ know Sloane goes nowhere without her phone, and  _ you _ currently have it,”  _ Anna said. Emily heard a truck roar to life on Anna’s end of the call.  _ “I’m on my way over in my dad’s truck, we’ll find her Mrs. B.”  _ After that, the line went dead.

  
  


*****

 

Sloane groaned and her muscles ached in protest as she turned over in bed. She pulled the blanket over her shoulders and yawned. As her eyes slowly fluttered open and she saw she was not in her grey and teal bedroom with the video game posters littering the wall, the events of the previous day flooded back. Sloane scurried into the corner at the head of her bed, trying not to hyperventilate. She had hoped it was just a bad, weird dream. Was she  _ actually  _ here? Or was she in a coma lying in a hospital? If she actually  _ is _ here, were her parents worried? Her twin brother, Sam? Her best friends Anna and her younger brother Elijah? Sloane suddenly became angry, she had plans!

 

“Why me? What am I doing here?” Sloane asked the empty room as angry tears flowed freely from her eyes. She pulled herself from the bed and kicked the leg of a nearby chair. 

 

When Yash came into the room ten minutes later, Sloane was sitting against her bed on the floor, still crying. He tried to avert his eyes as he deposited his recent purchases onto the floor in front of the wooden dresser before sitting down.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” Sloane said, as she noticed some of the items spill out of the spare pack Yash had dropped on the floor and roll over towards her. She wiped her eyes and pulled herself up onto the bed. She picked up an apple and tried to hand it to him. 

 

Yash shook his head. “You should eat, you missed breaking your fast this morning,” he insisted.

 

“Thank you, Yash. Not just for the apple, but for saving my life as well,” she said sullenly as she sniffled. “What’s all of this for?” Sloane asked as she nodded to all of the doubled supplies and clothing that looked way too small for Yash. 

 

“You will need clothing other than what I found you wearing. We begin travelling to Whiterun at dawn,” Yash declared.

 

Sloane eyed Yash curiously, cocking her head in confusion. “‘We’? You don’t know me from Adam, but you want me to travel with you?” 

 

“Who is Adam?” Yash asked with a crooked grin, eliciting a true and good laugh from Sloane. She righted herself as her facial expression quickly faltered and changed into a small, forced smile and her eyes fell to the floor. 

 

“It’s just a figure of speech where I’m from, Yash. It means you don’t know anything about me,” Sloane said as she picked at some loose straw that poked out of the side of the bed.

 

“I know your name, and that you are familiar with Tamriel, but not from here. Or so you say,” he said. Yash began sifting through his most recent purchases, separating them so he would be carrying the heavier items in his pack, and she would carry the lighter. 

 

The next few hours went by in companionable silence as the two readied their packs and ate their dinner. Sloane refused to let Yash do all of the preparations himself. Sloane decided to share a little bit after her stomach was full, “I have a twin brother, his name is Sam. I am seventeen… winters old, and my favorite color is blue.” Sloane offered.

 

 Yash smiled sleepily as he stretched and nodded, “I have two sisters and a brother, Yanara, Heren, and Kronan. I am one-hundred and twenty winters old, and my favorite color is grey.” With that, Sloane nodded and gave Yash a half-smile before rolling onto her back and letting her heavy lids close, sleep taking over.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in under an hour, and yes, I did look up exactly how many minutes are in 63 days and tweaked it a touch.

It had been two months. 63 days since she vanished, 90,727 minutes and 42 seconds since Sloane Bailey was last seen alive, playing a video game in her bedroom. 

 

“You can’t just call off an amber alert! What use are you bloody police?!” Emily practically screamed at one of the officers who had been searching tirelessly for Sloane.

 

“Mom, Sloane’s officially eighteen, she’s no longer a missing child. Now she’s just a missing person.” Sam said as he held his mother back from beating the shit out of the cop in front of them. 

 

“People don’t just disappear!” Anna yelled in protest behind him. Anna’s father was a police officer, and he insisted on leading the searches around the woods behind the Bailey’s grand home. 

 

Nothing turned up. Not one footprint nor a blade of their perfectly manicured lawn was out of place. And now, it was officially Sloane and Samuel’s eighteenth birthday.

 

Scott Bailey had been stationed in Afghanistan and hadn’t yet heard of his daughter’s missing status. He had planned an entire surprise for his kids birthday. He was shocked when his mother hadn’t been at the airport to pick him up, she had been in on it since he last spoke to her three months prior. Nothing could have prepared the seasoned Marine for what he found when his uber dropped him off at his home in upstate Maine.

 

“What the hell…” He said as the uber pulled up in front of his house. News vans lined the street in front of the small mansion. Flowers, mainly pink roses, were forming a long line where the yard met the street. _Someone’s hurt._  His first impression wasn’t far from the truth. 

 

He dropped his duffel and ran across the yard and into the house. Looking around, he saw his wife, his mother and in-laws, Samuel… “Where is Sloane?” The Major’s voice cracked, he didn’t really want to know the answer.

 

Samuel burst into tears when he saw his father and ran to embrace him. “Dad… She’s just… gone…” 

 

Scott Bailey fell to his knees in tears with his son as the rest of his family and his daughters friends converged around the two men. 

 

“We’ll find her. We have to.” Emily said between sobs.

  
  
**********  
  


“Hold yer shield up, woman!” Yash barked the order to Sloane, who was having issues holding the large wooden shield at eye-level. They had been on the road for some time now, Sloane didn’t know exactly how long, maybe a few weeks? She didn’t know. She had had a period, she knew that. 

 

Sloane had taken every chance to train in a one-handed weapon, but was quickly figuring out a shield was _not_ her thing. She and Yash had basically told each other their life stories on the road. They had even picked up another companion on their journey, A dark Elf named Jorinn Telln. “He’s right, little red. Ya need to hold that shield up.” Jorinn said with a mouthful of bread.

 

“Was that even english, Jorinn?” She said as she tossed the heavy shield at Jorinn’s feet. “I am no good with that big ass piece of wood, boys. Daggers.” She said and Jorinn laughed and handed her a set of dragonstone daggers they had picked up from a khajiit caravan as they passed Windhelm. She twirled the daggers in her hands as if she’d been using them her whole life while Yash let out a playful growl. 

 

“Come on _human_. You think you can finally best me?” Yash taunted playfully. It had gotten warmer the further south they traveled, instead of the heavy cloak, now Sloane circled Yash in just her shorts and a haphazardly cut silk tunic that hung off her shoulder. 

 

“Let’s see what you’ve got _Green Boy_.” She said with a slight smirk. Yash lunged at her, but she dodged the great hulking axe with ease, spinning out of the way, almost in a dance as she crouched, both hands clutching her daggers behind her back. 

 

It took less than five minutes for Sloane to dispatch Yash, though she swears up and down he lets her win. Jorinn always tells them both what a cute couple they are. Joking did not ease the tension, however. Sloane rolled off of Yash and laid, immobile, on the ground next to him. A blush crept into her pale cheeks as Jorinn whistled at the two. 

  
“I’m going to bathe, I’ll be back in awhile.” Sloane announced as she scooped up her daggers and a fresh change of clothes, including her boots, and quickly fled into the trees towards the creek near their camp.

 

“Ya gonna let her wash her own back, Yashy boy?” Jorinn teased, eliciting a growl from the hulking green giant. “Hey, she announced it like an invitation, and it wasn’t me she was fluttering those beautiful eyes at, Yash.” Jorinn pointed out as he stirred the horker stew in the pot over the fire. 

 

Yash groaned at the growing ache in his breeches. This red-haired human made him crazy. She was beautiful, and fire-kissed and she actually beat him fairly this time. Giving up, Yash got up and flicked Jorinn in the ear before following Sloane.

 

When he came to the clearing, he was awestruck. His member now strained against the laces of his breeches as he spotted Sloane’s alabaster skin in the moonlight, her back to him as she used the soap that had become almost a part of her since they met to wash her crazy red curls. Yash tried to be quiet, he really did. He inched closer, not noticing the driftwood branch until it cracked loudly under his boot. Sloane spun around quickly, not even bothering to cover herself as she swam to shore and grabbed one of her daggers from the pile of discarded clothing on the rocky shore. “Who’s there? Come out or I’ll gut you!” 

 

Yash stepped out from the tree line, to Sloane’s surprise and she let out the breath she had been holding, she turned around to put the dagger down as she spoke and wrapped herself in what passed for a towel. “Yash, you scared the shit out of me. Did you need to bathe? I’m almost finished if you need priva-” Yash had closed the distance when Sloane wasn’t looking, His large, strong arms wrapped around her waist and it stopped her in her tracks. 

 

           That's when everything went to hell as they were suddenly surrounded by Imperial Soldiers and Yash held her close to him...


End file.
